


Pumpkin Grins in Windowsills

by There_Was_A_Star_Danced



Category: Howl Series - Diana Wynne Jones, Howl's Moving Castle - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Relationships, Canon Universe, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Jack o'Lanterns, Pumpkin carving, Trick or Treating, holiday fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2020-12-07 15:26:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20978135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/There_Was_A_Star_Danced/pseuds/There_Was_A_Star_Danced
Summary: "Time for shivers scares and thrills,/For pumpkin grins in windowsills,/For black cats in the full moon's glow/and a Happy Halloween Hello!""Do you think we could do it, Calcifer?" Sophie asked quietly, lips pursed and eyes ablaze.Calcifer cracked a little and stretched, the slightly redder flames of his mouth stretching into a grin."Why not? " he croaked. "It sounds like fun."It's Howl and Sophie's first harvest as a couple, and Calcifer's first year not tied to the hearth. After a disappointing visit to Wales to properly introduce Sophie to his family, Howl is down in the dumps. Sophie stumbles on an idea to cheer him up, with a little help.





	1. In Which Halloween Is Introduced

Harvest had come to Ingary. 

The cold north wind blew through the streets of the towns and tugged at coats and skirts and hats alike. Outside of town, it whipped with brutal force through the trees, sapping the green from the leaves. Trees withdrew inside themselves, leaving their clothes tinged with fire as they bedded down for the long sleep. Fields of green growing grain had turned golden, ready for the reaping. Fruit trees stood, their branches bowed down with their sweet gifts, ready for the taking. 

In the flower shop in Market Chipping, reams of sunflowers and harvest roses and golden wheat sheaves lined the walls in vases and greeted everyone who entered with their cacophony of scents. Of course, since their stock was magically supplied, they never ran out of the other flowers, but the shop had a distinctly harvest feel to it. 

Sophie adored harvest time. It seemed as if every time it came around, it always felt a little more dear to her. This year was no exception. It was even an improvement to what it had been before. Now the nights seemed cozier with a live fire and with someone to share it with. Two someones if she was being technical. But more often than not once supper was over Michael headed to bed and Howl and Sophie drifted to the sofa Howl had introduced a few weeks ago for in front of Calcifer's hearth. 

They would sit for hours before the fire. If the night was fine, Calcifer would not be there himself. Instead, he would light a very pleasant little blaze for them to warm drinks over or just sit in front of. Sophie loved those nights. Every night seemed different and new, but all they did was talk. Well...most nights anyways. I mean, it was very hard to be affectionate in front of Calcifer. He always made the most awkward comments, even at the barest peck on the cheek, and as much as Howl laughed him off, Sophie just preferred what was private to be kept private. Howl learned that very quickly and, being a private person himself, agreed and kept most physical displays of affection to fine days when Calcifer had gone out. 

If the night was chilly and wet, though, Calcifer would stay and they would talk between the three of them. Calcifer would tell Sophie stories from his time with Howl before Michael came, while Howl moaned and groaned that he was being mightily abused. They would talk about whatever customers had come in today, who had been interesting, who had not. They would talk about the King's commissions to Howl, who had been heartily disappointed when the re-appearance of Wizard Suliman had not meant that he was relieved of his post of Royal Magician. They would talk in low voices of speculations of the coming war. They knew that everyone they loved would, for the most part, be protected. Michael was more valuable as Howl's apprentice than as a soldier, and Howl and Ben were well-valued by the King. 

But there were definite disadvantages to war, and between themselves, the three rather wondered about what would happen to the little people, to the average people whom Howl could not bear to overcharge, and whom Sophie knew all her life if they were to stay in Market Chipping. 

"Of course, we might not," Howl said one evening while they were discussing this. "I'm not saying I'll run away again. The King's taken too fine a measure of me to let me. But we might have to move house again if the King wants us back in Kingsbury." 

"I won't mind so much," Calcifer crackled from his logs. "I'm free, remember? Sophie gave me a thousand years, and I plan on convincing her to give me a thousand more. But in the meantime, it won't be so hazardous to move me now." 

"That's right," Howl mused, "I hadn't thought of that."

"Don't you think you could just put another side to the door? I'm not sure if I'd be happy or sorry to leave the house and shop. I grew up here, you know, and I've gotten used to being here again." Sophie mused, playing with Howl's hands. They were long and thin, like a woman's, but deceptive, much like the rest of him. Sophie knew the strength it took to manipulate the metal for some of the King's spells, and words of power were quite physical to do too. Howl's hand curled around her fingers as she slid them up and down his own, and Sophie smiled, leaning closer into his shoulder. 

"It might take a lot more effort than it seems, to add another door to the castle. The doors are each tied to a side of the castle, so it would mean adding another side to the actual castle itself..." Howl trailed off, talking over logistics with Calcifer. 

* * *

It was a fine night when Howl brought up Wales. 

Sophie had almost fallen asleep against his shoulder as they stared into the little leaping flames when Howl suddenly sighed. Sophie murmured and opened her eyes again, frowning at him. 

"What's the matter?" she asked sleepily. She didn't like the long-suffering look on his face. 

"Oh, nothing. Only that I've gone and got myself in a muddle." Was the reply. 

"A muddle? Howl, what have you done now?" Sophie asked, the frown still firmly fixed. 

"It's what I haven't done that's the problem. I was thinking that I haven't properly introduced you to Megan and her family yet." Howl sighed again, more long-suffering than ever. 

"Yes you have, you introduced me to them when we went to find out about that poem." Sophie reminded him. 

"No, I haven't. See, Megan doesn't believe in Magic. I had to do some pretty fast talking once I'd saved them from the witch, let me tell you. But what I'm trying to say is that the Sophie Hatter she met was a little old lady and she had no reason to suspect otherwise. And she's not going to connect Sophie Hatter my housekeeper with Sophie Jenkins, my wife. She's probably going to be livid I didn't tell her I was getting married." 

Sophie snorted, which dissolved into a chuckle. Howl raised an eyebrow at her. 

"I'm sorry, I interrupted. And you were being so honest just then. I apologize. I was just remembering Fanny's face when she'd learned we just... got married." Sophie chuckled again, and this time Howl with her. 

"Oh, that was worth a thousand pearls, just to see her face. I'm glad I ended up going with you." Howl laughed, planting a kiss on Sophie's head. 

"I made you come with me, you mean," Sophie teased him, raising an eyebrow. 

"Oh have it your way. It's not worth fighting over and it's probably true," Howl gave in, pulling her in for a kiss. 

"Mm, you're distracting me," Sophie murmured as he broke the kiss. 

"Am I?" asked Howl, leaning in again. Sophie stopped him with a finger to the lips. 

"Yes, you are. Now, Mr. Slither-er-outer. We were talking about your sister." Sophie reminded him. 

"Oh, yes," Howl sighed, kissing the tip of Sophie's finger and then returning to the point. "Well, the point is, I'll be needing to properly introduce the two of you sooner or later."

Sophie sighed this time, running her finger around the outside of Howl's lips. 

"I suppose you're right, strangely enough. Well, when should we do it? Is there anything you know of happening tomorrow?" 

"Oh not tomorrow, Sophie. Heavens above, I need more than one evening to prepare to see my sister's formidable husband. And trust me, Megan will insist on having us stay for supper, so we might as well accept that inevitability now. But we don't have to accept it with grace, you know." 

"Alright then. We'll go the night after."

"Sophie!" Howl groaned, half pleadingly, half disgustedly. "I should have known better than to present you with something I don't want to do. Your immediate response _would_ be to jump right into it and have it done."

"It hurts less to get things done quickly, I find. I always have found that. What, don't you agree?" Sophie asked. 

Howl groaned again. "Ever practical Sophie. Very well then, the night after next. And try not to be too worried about Megan's inquisition that she'll put you through." 

Sophie jabbed him between the third and fourth ribs. She knew that his last remark was a parting shot meant to make her worried. "Oh, trust me, I won't be. I'm not the one who is frightened of her. You needn't be worried about me." 

"Oh trust me, I won't be," Howl sarcastically mimicked her, but there was a hint of pride in his voice as well. 

* * *

The dinner was terrible. Megan was suspicious, and, as Howl had predicted, outraged at having been excluded from Howl's wedding. She only got worse when she learned that the only witnesses had been Sophie's sister Lettie and her own just barely new husband who had also eloped at the same time. Neil took great pleasure in watching his mother rake his Uncle Howell and Uncle Howell's new wife Sophie over the coals and through the Inquisition. Mari would have made the meal better, except that she had an unpleasant habit of getting into fights with her brother, and making a terrible racket. And Megan's husband was a beacon of frowning respectability, prepared to reprimand and mold his sister's young scapegoat brother and his new wife. 

At first, Sophie felt terribly out of her depth. It was hard to catch her breath, especially when the full force of Megan's questioning and nagging was upon her. Once again, as she had before when in that house and listening to that diatribe, Sophie felt that she fully understood and sympathized with a young Howl acquiring the habit of slithering out of anything unpleasant. 

But as Sophie grew more tired, Megan's nagging and Gareth's pomposity dragged on her. Finally, she snapped, "just a little" as she later defended herself to Howl, and at Megan's crack of elopements being very scandalous for all family members concerned Sophie spoke out. 

"He must have picked it up from my family. After all, I didn't know my step-mother had remarried for nearly three months! What a shock it was to have her come calling on us, the 'new neighbors in town', as Mrs. Smith! Of course, it was all very embarrassing for all concerned really, but I was so grateful that Howl had found her and arranged for her to come calling on us. I had missed her." Sophie trailed off with a wistful smile, leaving Megan and Gareth speechless. 

Howl's shoulders were shaking as he leaned over his plate, hiding his face from the table with one hand. Finally, he pulled himself together with an effort and looked across at his niece, who had picked up on the fact that her favorite, if her only, uncle was laughing and had a big grin on her face. 

"So Mari, who are you going as for Halloween?" Howl asked, eyes twinkling and practically bouncing in his seat.

The silence changed from shocked to awkward. 

Howl looked around the table with wide eyes, watching every eye avoid his except Gareth's. 

"Well, you see, Howell, I've got a business trip I have to go on over the week of Halloween." Gareth began. 

Howl raised one eyebrow and waited. Sophie wasn't sure what Halloween was, but it was obviously important to Howl, and his family was obviously embarrassed about something. She waited too, making a mental note to ask what Halloween was later. Much later, if her feelings proved correct. 

"It's all the way to America this time," Gareth went on, as if he were just sharing the news, "and Megan has always told me how much she wanted to see America. So I'm taking the whole family with me. The children will get a lot out of a trip to America, too. And with your new wife, you won't want to be spending as much time with us over winter as you usually do. I'm sure you agree with me. As Megan does." 

Sophie glanced over at Megan and was surprised to find her glaring at her husband. But she didn't contradict him. 

Howl had dropped his gaze to his plate. His thumb was running over the knife in one hand as if he were contemplating stabbing it into Gareth. He nodded once, and set the knife down. His eyes rose again and even Sophie was startled by the pain in his eyes, but he smiled at Megan and Gareth, nodding every once in a while. 

"Of course, of course," he huffed. "I'm sure you'll all have a lovely time in America." He flashed a dazzling grin, and then ducked his head again, staring at his plate. 

_ For all the world like a little boy denied his favorite treat _ , Sophie thought, a sudden spasm of sympathy and love hitting her right between the eyes. She glanced quickly at the whole family, who (aside from Gareth) was shooting nervous glances at Howl. Megan, who was sitting closest to Howl, reached out a hand and put it on her little brother's shoulder. 

"We'll be back long before Christmas, and we'd be..." Megan swallowed and pushed on, "we'd be pleased if you and Sophie could come for Christmas." 

"Of course. Of course." Howl nodded rather distantly, and smiled weakly, although he pushed himself to sit up straight and look around the table again. 

"Uncle Howell..." began Neil, nervously. 

"You will come for Christmas, won't you Uncle Howell? Please?" Mari chimed in when it was clear her brother wouldn't finish his sentence. 

Howl smiled again, sincerely this time, and looked between the children. "Of course, cariads. We'll have a lovely Christmas to make up for the lost time. You'll see." 

The dinner continued more silently than before. Gareth seemed pleased with himself and Megan seemed put out with him. But she had a firm hold on her emotions and Sophie really couldn't tell how far her anger went. 

Howl seemed fine for the rest of the meal until, just at the end, Gareth brought up the trip to America again. Howl went straight back to being depressed, although he mostly held it together for Neil and Mari, and Megan went back to being cross at everyone in general. 

Eventually, the evening wound to a close and Howl helped Megan put Mari and Neil to bed while Sophie had an awkward period of mostly silence with Gareth. Sophie could hear Howl and Megan bickering lightly about the appropriateness of a story about demons for an eight-year-old girl, even nice fire demons, and Sophie decided that it would be better if they headed back early rather than stay for a prolonged chat and drinks or something. So she stood as Howl and Megan entered the room, delicately suggesting that they should leave. Howl flashed her a grateful smile and she and he went to the door, followed by Megan. Gareth let out a parting shot as they left the room. 

"Goodbye, Howell, Goodbye, Sophie. I suppose we might see you at Christmas. If you can make it." Gareth said around a pipe. 

Howl clenched his fist and smiled tightly, turning away. There was silence until they reached the door, where Megan placed a hand on Howl's shoulder again. 

"We really would have asked you to take the children over that week, Howell, but we weren't sure where you were or how to get a hold of you. And if you had anything important happening we didn't want to upset your plans. And now with your new wife... " Megan trailed off. Sophie glanced at her to find appeal in her face. 

Sophie was surprised. Megan didn't seem like the type to ask for help with anything, especially not from a woman she disapproved of. But the thought came to her of how helpful it was to turn to Fanny when she'd gone too far with one of her own scoldings and had hurt Martha or Lettie. And the thought of Martha and Lettie brought back fond memories of Howl arranging their reunion and putting himself out of the way for them. She bit her lip and made up her mind. 

"Well, thank you for thinking of us," she said, a little insincerely, since it was clear it had only been a passing thought spared to Howl and none at all to herself. "A week is a little long for Michael to shift for himself on short notice. But it's not out of the question, either. For something as important as ... " Sophie blanked, forgetting the word. In half a second she'd caught it again and resumed her little speech, "as Halloween, we'd be glad to put ourselves out for you. And especially the children. Perhaps we could find a way to send messages back and forth more easily..." Sophie trailed off, studiously ignoring Gareth's glower from behind his wife. 

Howl brightened visibly. "Sophie, you're a genius. Why didn't I think of that?" 

"Of course I am," Sophie countered immediately. "What have I done now?"

"Phone messages won't go across, but mail might. If I got a mailbox... one of those ones with a door on both sides... that might work... I'll have to talk to Calcifer." 

Sophie rolled her eyes fondly and tugged at Howl’s arm. “Well, let’s get home and talk to him, then. Goodnight Megan, thank you for having us, dinner was excellent.” 

“Yes, Goodbye Megan. We’ll see you at Christmas. Or maybe before.” Howl flashed an impish grin at his sister and waved cheekily to Gareth before shutting the door quickly. After waiting for a second with his hand on the door, Howl turned the knob again onto the blackness and he and Sophie walked back into the Castle. 

The Castle was empty. Truly empty, since Michael had gone to spend the night with the Smiths. Calcifer was out too, from the rosiness of the fire he had left for them. Howl sighed as he shut the door behind them, the concealing spell dropping off of the clothes he and Sophie were wearing. He and Sophie were silent as they moved into the castle. Sophie threw off her shawl and dropped onto the sofa. Howl flopped down next to her, his head dropped into his delicate hand. After a while of staring at the flames, he stirred. 

“Should I warm up something to drink? Would you prefer cider or mulled wine?” he asked, sitting up in his seat.

“Wine, please and thank you, I feel I need it.” Sophie smiled sweetly at Howl.

Howl smiled back, dropping a kiss on her forehead as he stood to gather the ingredients. 

Sophie stared into the fire, listening to the sounds of Howl moving around behind her. There were chinks and clinks coming from the little pot they had designated for evening drinks as Howl dropped some spices in and poured the wine over top of it. He came and placed it on the hob, swinging it into the fire. Then, dissatisfied with the size of the fire, he dropped another log on it and stirred it up. 

Sophie watched him turn back to her with a satisfied smile. She smiled back, thinking that his mood was better and wondering if she dared unbalance his equilibrium with a question. After all, green slime was a definite option here, even if it was not in Wales without several awkward explanations. But on Howl dropping another sweet kiss on her cheek, Sophie decided to risk it. Cuddling into his arms, she started off. 

“Howl, what exactly is Halloween?” she asked. 

Howl chuckled underneath her. “Only a holiday. A rather fitting holiday for us, though. It used to be a celebration of spirits and magic many thousands of years ago in my world. It was called Nos Calan Gaeaf then. But after Christianity came, it was a time for remembering those who had died, especially in the last year. Superstitions are hard to get rid of though, and some of the old traditions stayed, such as putting on costumes and pretending to be something you are not. But then even more time passed and more people began to be interested in the supernatural and the older traditions of Halloween. Witches and Wizards become awfully popular around this time of year.”

“I see. I think,” Sophie sighed, sitting up a little to get a good look at his face. 

“It’s mostly for fun, really,” Howl went on, “Going around the neighborhood in costume and threatening pranks on the neighbors if you’re not given treats.” A smile played about his lips as he stared into the fire. “It’s the one time I can walk around Wales as the Wizard Howl Pendragon and not have everyone stare at me as if I were insane.” 

“It’s the one time you can show your best self to Megan and Neil and Mari,” Sophie added softly. 

Howl nodded, eyes not leaving the fire. Sophie slipped her hand into his. His hand curled around hers and held it warmly. 

* * *

The next night was drizzly. Calcifer complained all day and stayed as far forward in the grate as he could. Sophie found her head splitting from his whines and Howl’s counter-complaints and Michael’s attempts at peace-making. 

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, stop, all of you,” she grouched, throwing up her hands, “it’s bad enough to have to focus on these tiny stitches without the three of you sounding like an out of tune chorus!” 

Immediately three outraged voices raised in protest. 

“Sophie, you don’t understand, I’m getting dripped on!”

“What do you mean out of tune?!”

“Sophie I was only trying to-”

“ENOUGH!” Sophie roared, slamming her hands down on the table and scattering the contents. Silence reigned, broken only by the sound of rain hissing as it hit Calcifer’s logs. Sophie sighed, sitting back down again. 

“Thank you,” she breathed. “I’m sorry for snapping, but I have a headache and I lost my patience. Calcifer, if you’re tired of being dripped on, why don’t you come into the room? You can now, remember? Michael, why don’t you make us all some nice hot milk? Howl-” Sophie paused and watched Howl raise an eyebrow challengingly as he snapped off a twig of peppermint. 

“Howl, why don’t you tell us a story about Halloween?” Sophie finally settled on. She was still curious about Halloween and why it was so important to Howl. And it seemed like quite an easy way to occupy Howl too. 

Both of Howl’s eyebrows rose, but he grinned. 

“Have you found something new to snoop into, Mrs. Nose?” Howl teased, handing her the twig. 

Sophie took it and crushed some of the leaves between finger and thumb, sighing with relief as she sniffed them. “Nonsense,” she chided, “I just don’t want you pestering Calcifer, and the best way to stop that is to get you talking about yourself. Now, I want a story of your favorite Halloween, told in your best style. And make it good.” Sophie challenged her husband. 

Howl laughed and ducked to kiss her cheek. “As M'lady commands,” he grinned. 

“What’s Halloween?” Michael asked, looking back from the hob and ducking to see around Calcifer, who was floating over his shoulder and staring mournfully at the sizzling pile of logs. 

“A holiday to remember those who have died. But the date and traditions were determined by an old belief that the veil between the magical world and the regular world were thinnest on a certain day, at the turning of the seasons. It’s a day for pranksters and demons and witches and wizards, but also one for children, family, and remembering the dead.” Howl explained, in his best dramatic voice, coming to stand beside the fire. 

“It sounds like a powerful day, no matter which way you turn it,” Calcifer crackled. 

“It is really. Of course, some idiots take it as a day to do whatever mean pranks they can get away with, but that’s not true to the spirit of it. Now, let’s see… my favorite Halloween…” Howl trailed off, thinking. 

Sophie gathered her work and went to the sofa, settling herself there. Her headache was still present, but duller now; The peppermint had helped. Howl sat carefully beside her, a frown creasing his forehead as he thought back over the years of Halloweens that he had experienced. Michael stretched out on the floor, head in his hands and staring at Sophie and Howl. Calcifer hovered for a bit, but finally decided to return to the hearth. 

“You know, I really can’t choose a favorite Halloween. There were so many great ones,” Howl began. Calcifer made a grunt of protest, but Howl just grinned. “Of course, there was the year our turnips spoiled before we had a chance to carve them.” 

* * *

Howl talked for hours, grinning the whole time. There were stories from when he was a child and how the holiday had changed to what it was now for Mari and Neil. He talked of carving turnips and pumpkins, of making paper chains of ghosts, of not having to sweep away the cobwebs for weeks. He spoke of “bobbing for apples” and the bonfires that would light the winter hearths. He spoke of pranks he had played and the trouble he had gotten into for them. And he spoke of what, until this year, had been his current Halloween tradition. 

“I always head back for dinner sometime in the weeks before, and I find out what Mari and Neil will be going as. Then I find a disguise to coordinate and show up the evening of to take them out trick-or-treating. It’s always wonderful fun to see their reactions. One time Mari went as a hobbit and Neil went as a ranger, so I came as a wizard. Oh, not as myself, but as the wizard from the book series. That’s part of the reason why I made that cloak that turns the wearer into an old man; I was experimenting.” 

It was well past midnight when a yawn caught him in the middle of a sentence and he finally realized what time it was. 

“Gracious heavens above! After midnight! And the king wanting to see me tomorrow! We’d best be getting to bed, all. Come on, Michael.” 

There was no sound from the boy aside from a quiet groan. Howl stood and leaned over his apprentice, dropping a hand on Michael’s head. 

“Sound asleep, eh? Ah well. Up with you, fy machgen.” Howl rolled Michael over and scooped him up easily, carrying him bridal style out of the room. At the door, he turned around and glanced at Sophie, who was starring after him lovingly. 

“Coming, love?” he asked softly. 

Sophie smiled. “Soon. I’m almost done with my work here.” 

Howl smiled, one of his dazzling and downright beautiful smiles filled with love and impish good humor. “All right. But be sure to get some sleep. You’re not as young as you once were, remember.” 

“Oh get on with you!” Sophie chuckled, shaking her head. 

Howl turned with Michael in his arms and disappeared up the stairs. She could hear the sounds of him moving around upstairs, first softly in Michael’s room, then more loudly in their room as he prepared for bed. 

Sophie dropped one hand to her stomach, thinking for a moment of Princess Valeria, climbing all over her and giving her sticky wet kisses. And then she thought of Howl holding Mari and chattering away with her in Welsh. And now of him carrying Michael, a grown boy of sixteen, to bed. 

“He’d make a good father,” she decided aloud. 

“If a bit of an unorthodox one,” agreed Calcifer from the grate. 

Sophie smiled, a little sadly, at him. “Somehow I think that’s a little better than being orthodox. My own Father… my own Father was terribly orthodox. And I don’t think any child of mine would handle having an orthodox father well. Especially if it was Howl.” 

Calcifer cackled merrily. “The idea of Howl trying to pretend to be orthodox to be a father!” 

Sophie chuckled. “I think he’d go mad by the end of the first week.” 

The two friends laughed quietly with each other as Sophie turned back to her work. Calcifer hummed and sputtered his silly little saucepan song and Sophie hummed the tune with him as she worked. Silence fell over them for a bit. But Sophie was pre-occupied and eventually dropped her work to turn to Calcifer again. 

“I wish we could do something about Howl and his family being apart for Halloween. You should have seen how disappointed he was when he found out. He’ll miss them so much.” Sophie sighed. 

“Well, maybe. I don’t know what you mean about him being apart from family, though. He’ll be with us, won’t he?” Calcifer crackled. 

Sophie dropped her work and stared at him. Calcifer crackled uneasily. 

“What? I simply mentioned it.” He crackled, turning a bit paler. 

“Calcifer, are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Sophie asked. 

Calcifer relaxed a little. “That depends on what you heard,” he hedged. 

“If I heard correctly, then you might be a genius,” Sophie stood and began pacing, muttering to herself. She counted things off on her fingers and made quick calculations. Finally, she plopped down on the sofa again and leaned forward toward the grate. 

"Do you think we could do it, Calcifer?" Sophie asked, lips pursed and eyes ablaze.

Calcifer cracked a little and stretched, the slightly redder flames of his mouth stretching into a grin.

"Why not? " he croaked. "It sounds like fun."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "fy machgen" means "my boy" in Welsh, and "cariads" is the plural form of "cariad" which is Welsh for "heart" or "darling".  
I have a few more notes but I can't remember them so I'll edit later. :)  
Thanks for reading! Enjoy the first chapter!


	2. In Which Sophie and Calcifer Bribe a Wizard

The next day dawned bright and crisp in Market Chipping. From the window that looked out over the town, sunlight came pouring through and fell over the graceful lines of a sleeping Sophie. She winced a little as the sunlight got in her eyes, and rolled over. The bed was cold. 

She groaned and sat up, only to observe by the silent clock on the wall--Howl swore it was magic, but Sophie was almost certain it was Welsh--that it was nearly mid-morning. Turning swiftly back to the space usually occupied by a certain lanky wizard, she found a note laying on his pillow. 

She picked it up and read it. 

> “Dearest Sophie, 
> 
> I could have sworn that I went to bed alone last night, but I woke to the most lovely witch in Ingary or anywhere else by my side. You may as well know it, I’m in love with her. There. I’ve said it and I feel all the better for it. 
> 
> I would stay with her but for the summons to the king. She’s a thoroughly enchanting woman, in every sense of the word. But alas, duty calls and I am a Better Man, and so I must leave <strike> you </strike> her. I’ve told Michael not to disturb her and to let her have the good lie-in I wish I could have, so if she wakes late, don’t let her blame him. 
> 
> And now I’ll leave off pretending to write about another woman. I love you, my irresistible force of nature. I know it’s foolhardy to suggest but try, as far as possible, not to get yourself into imminent danger while I’m gone. I’ll see you as soon as magic and politics (beastly things, why _ do _ we have them?) allow. 
> 
> -Your Heartsore Howl”

“Blast the man!” Sophie squawked, kissing the paper with frenzy, and rolling over to shove it into the drawer by her bedside, “It’s very sweet of him, and I love him for it, but why did he have to be romantic this particular morning?!” 

She shoved the blankets off of her and leaped up, dressing quickly and flying down the stairs and out into the main room just as Michael came in from the flower fields. 

“Oh, hello, Sophie!” he called as he lugged one of the flying pails through the door and kicked it to make it land on the ground. “Howl wanted to let you sleep this morning, so Calcifer and I gathered the flowers ourselves, but I was afraid we didn’t get enough, so I was just getting a second batch. I say, are you alright? You look a little out of breath…” 

“Well, how would you feel waking nearly three hours past your usual time?” Sophie challenged him. “And you!” she turned to Calcifer, “You knew that I wanted to get up particularly early this morning, and yet didn’t say anything!” 

“You needed your sleep. After all, you stayed up so late planning your surprise for Howl…” Calcifer trailed off, chuckling. 

“Oh, I give up!” Sophie huffed, throwing her hands in the air. Then, as she saw that Michael was beginning to look guilty, relented. “Oh, don’t look like such a frightened sheep, young man, I’m not mad. I just had things I wanted to do and not a lot of time to do them in, and even less time now. But it’s all right, I’ll work around it. How’s the shop?” 

Michael grinned. He loved it when Sophie pulled the “young man” card on him, mainly for the fact that it sounded so ridiculous coming from her younger self. It was a sure-fire way to pull his spirits back from any negative emotions, and it worked like a charm now. 

“The shop’s doing fine, Granny,” he teased. “Anything I can get you?” 

Sophie scowled at him playfully. “You’ve been spending too much time with Howl. And you can get me something. I’ll mind the shop while you run out to get them. Let’s start with some pumpkins.”

* * *

“It doesn’t look like much,” Calcifer crackled over Sophie’s shoulder. Sophie huffed but had to agree. Silently, of course.

Across the table was spread a mess of pumpkin innards, chunks and pieces, including what was left of the mangled corpse of one large pumpkin, fallen in the line of duty. Two more stood on the counter, looking on in horror at their prospective fate. 

Sophie huffed again, her heavy sigh blowing a stray piece of hair that had fallen into her eyes back out of the way. Her hands had wrinkled from the moisture of the process, and the knife used was hanging precariously from one hand. She was itching to just open the door to the moving side of the castle and pitch the entire mess out to be feasted on by birds, but her pride was getting the better of her, and she wanted to save her debunked first attempt. 

“Do you suppose I could enchant it to look more like what it’s supposed to?” She asked, eyeing the mess warily. 

“That might work,” Michael said hopefully. “If anyone can do it, it’s you, Sophie.”

“Maybe. If she knew what these things were supposed to look like.” Calcifer croaked. 

Sophie shot him a glare but otherwise didn’t respond. She wasn’t speaking to him just then. She had told him that the innards weren’t supposed to come out of the eyes and mouth. The decimated squash starred at her mournfully, the cavernous opening of the mouth and horribly misshapen eyes starring at her like a horrific parody of a skull. She huffed again. 

“Michael, get me a bowl,” she said, wearily. “We’ll scoop everything we can in there for now and I’ll take a crack at enchanting it later. Though I’ve no doubt I’ll mess it up,” she grumbled the last bit under her breath. She went and washed her hands while Michael scooped everything into a bowl and was feeling more herself when she came back. 

“Alright, next assignment,” Sophie snapped in martial form as she came briskly back. “We’re going to try that game Howl mentioned. Snapdragon.”

* * *

“Well, that was a disaster,” Sophie sighed. 

“Oh quiet. It was your idea,” Calcifer grumbled. 

Exploded raisins covered Sophie and Michael, and several parts of the room. The sticky brown gobs hung from the ceiling and were stuck in Sophie’s hair like obscene freckles on a sunburned face. Michael looked shaken and was wringing his hands from his place on the stool. 

It wasn’t Sophie’s fault that the raisins had grown to three times their size, gorged beyond belief with the wine used to soak them. Well, she supposed it was. But not really! She’d just been so nervous that Howl would come home sooner than expected. And the raisins were taking so long to grow! And so, as the clock ticked further on towards evening, Sophie had given in to the temptation to just whisper to the raisins to ‘grow, grow, grow, quickly now.’ The result being that after a few moments, the fruits burst like bombs, strewing miniature destruction and chaos. 

“Sophie, are you quite sure that they’re supposed to grow-...” 

“Like that?” Sophie finished Michael’s trailed off question. “I doubt it. No sane housewife would allow the game if this is the result.” She glowered at the ruined bowl and the congealed mess of raisin remains in the bottom, bubbling ominously. 

“Sophie, what… what are we going to do now?” Michael asked. 

“I don’t know,” Sophie snapped, grinding her teeth. They all knew it was getting late. At any moment Howl would stride through the door and all Sophie’s attempts at a surprise would be ruined. She’d never be able to clean it all in time. 

“Sophie-” Michael paused at her glare, and then plunged on, standing up swiftly. “Cesari’s is just closing and I promised Martha I would stop by-” 

“Yes, go!” Sophie screeched, flinging her hands in the air. “Go! Go! Get out! And give Martha my love! Now go!” She grabbed Michael’s hat and threw it at him, almost chasing him out of the room. She knew it was unfair of her to take it out on Michael, but he was so _ very _ helpless in a crisis, and his method of waffling when one was in a bad mood only made everything worse. She breathed an audible sigh of relief when the door closed behind him and she was left alone with Calcifer’s companionable acerbity instead. 

Calcifer, in his turn, was cackling from his grate. “Poor Michael! You might have to go fetch him home yourself when you’ve calmed down. I don’t think he’d willingly come back on his own.” 

“Let him run,” Sophie sulked, crossing her arms. “It’d do him good. And as for you, you may count yourself lucky if you don’t end up eating all this muck, my friend!” 

“Not me!” Calcifer screamed, “I’d hurt myself trying to eat all that strong magic! You really ought to let Howl teach you how to control the strength of your magic, you know.” 

“No, I don’t know,” Sophie snapped, “there’s nothing wrong with my magic. It’s just still in its raw form.” Her teeth ground again and her chin shot out. She shook herself and stood up straight. Whipping around, she grabbed the kettle and banged it into the sink, tearing off the lid and throwing open the tap for some water. 

“Shouldn’t you be cleaning this up before Howl comes back?” Calcifer crackled. 

“I will. Once I’ve had a cup of tea.” Sophie slammed the lid back over the pot and heaved it out of the sink, turning quickly. 

Too quickly. Caught on a sticky gob of exploded raisin, her boot refused to turn with her. She lurched forward. The kettle flew neatly from her hands and crashed to the floor with a _ BANG _, flinging hot water all across the front of her dress and flinging out in an arc across the floor. 

Sophie fell, her hands flung out before her, slamming into the floor with the full weight of her young body. Wood bit into her palms mercilessly. Burning water scalded the soft skin of her hands. Her breath went out of her in a _ woosh _. 

And all of a sudden, it was too much. That ever-present thought, that sneaking _ “it’s because I’m the eldest,” _ much dampened by her months with Howl, suddenly appeared like some dreadful apparition. Tears sprang to her eyes. Her strength fled from her and she collapsed on the floor, sobbing. 

“Oh, Calcifer, Calcifer! I can’t even make a pot of tea right today, how could I ever think I could do this for Howl?” She wept. 

Calcifer bobbed about her helplessly as her shoulders shook while she lay there on the floor. It was always so trying when something like this happened. He’d asked Sophie to save him so he could be free. But what good was freedom when you could burn down an entire world, but couldn’t cheer up a friend? 

Slowly, Sophie’s sobs evened out and she managed to sit up, tears still streaming down her face and breaths coming in sharp gasps. Her face looked like a mottled fish in the market place, but she seemed calmer for her cry. 

Neither she nor Calcifer registered they heard the doorknob turning until it was too late. 

“Hell’s Bells! What in all the lands happened here?!” A voice spoke in craggy Welsh tones. 

Sophie gasped and turned to the door, while Calcifer flung himself at top speed for the grate. 

They needn’t have worried. There, standing in the doorway, was the tall, craggy form of Wizard Suliman, his hand laying on the doorknob and eyes widened to the size of saucers taking in the destruction of the room and Sophie sitting in a heap on the floor, in a wet and stained dress, tears flowing freely down her face. 

“Sophie! What happened?! Are you alright?” He asked, advancing into the room to kneel by her and offering a brotherly hand to help her rise. He’d fallen much more easily into the role of a brother-in-law to Sophie and Howl than Sophie had been able to see him as one. She felt it probably had something to do with hearing him praised to the skies as the Royal Wizard before they ever met. 

“Oh, uh- Ben. I-... I’m alright. I just had a bit of an accident and… is Howl with you?” She asked, eyes anxiously going to the door. 

“No, dear, he’s detained at the palace and sent me to ask after you. Shall I send for him?” Ben asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“No! Uh, no, please. I’d like a chance to clean this up before he gets back. Thank you, though.” Sophie took his hand and allowed him to help her up. 

“Of course, dear. I came to ask if you and Michael, and Calcifer too, of course, would like to join Lettie and me for dinner, since Howl is likely to be a while. He could stop by after he’s finished and take you home, but I suppose you do want some time to uh…” he trailed off and quickly picked up again. “By the by, where is Michael? Howl said he should be home.”

“I sent him to go see Martha. I was angry and frustrated and he wanted to leave before I blew up, so I threw him out.” Sophie sniffled, leaning back against the kitchen table. 

“Aye, I see,” Ben Suliman said, leaning down to pick up kettle. As he spoke, he wandered over to the sink and began refilling it. “I remember having little siblings myself. I loved them dearly, but they could get terribly irritating. Especially when they were being so very _ careful _ around me.” 

“What… what happened to them?” Sophie faltered. 

“They died. In an accident with my parents. That’s when I threw myself into magic. I started down a very dark road. But thankfully I found Ingary and Mrs. Pentstemmon before I went too far, and she helped me find a new purpose.” Ben finished settling the kettle on the hob and came back to lean on the table beside Sophie. She’d never seen him as quite so human before. 

“Thank you,” she whispered. 

Ben nodded. “Of course. We’re family now.” He smiled at her. 

The kettle sang and Ben went to pull it off the hob and set it on the table. Sophie found the teapot and the packet of tea. Silently, they worked together to brew a pot, and pour it out. The only sounds were Calcifer’s quiet crackling, the chinks of porcelain, and murmurs as they politely helped each other to cream and sugar. At last, Ben settled a warm cup in Sophie’s hands and picked up his own. 

“And now, little sister, perhaps you’ll tell me what happened here?” Ben asked, not unkindly. Sophie sighed and slouched against the table again. By common consent, they seemed to decide not to move away from the table. 

“Oh, I… I wanted to surprise Howl. He’s been miserable since he’s learned that he can’t go home to visit his family this harvest and I wanted to cheer him up. But everything went wrong and… and well, I don’t really know what I’m doing. Finally, I threw Michael out and was going to make some tea but I spilled that and… I know it’s not true. Howl’s told me that again and again, and I’ve almost started to believe it. But I just couldn’t help the thought that it’s because I’m the eldest. Of three.” Sophie wilted against the table and gave a mournful sip at her cup of tea. 

Ben nodded, sipping at his cup. His brow furrowed as he thought. With a sigh, he set his cup down on the table and turned to Sophie. 

“Sophie, why do you think you still believe that? Even after Howl assuring you of the opposite?” he asked. 

Sophie shrugged. “I suppose… just because I’ve been telling it to myself for so long. I always just assumed I would be the one to not make much of life.” 

Ben nodded. “I think you’re right. Sometimes when we find a comforting thought, we tend to go back and repeat it, not realizing what we’re really saying. If we, or someone else, breaks that illusion early, it pops like a soap bubble, and no one is hurt. But if no one challenges it, we repeat it to ourselves, again and again, until it becomes a belief, and then reality, and then core to ourselves. And when it reaches those later stages, it can rock our world to have someone break that lovely, damning illusion, even if we fully acknowledge they were right in doing so. It has become our default, our baseline. It’s that faux truth we revert to in every situation.” 

“I think I see,” Sophie sighed, “I need to remember to repeat the real truth to myself for that to become my new baseline, and I need to give myself time to learn it.” 

Ben smiled, kindly. “Exactly. And it’s always harder to unlearn something than it was to learn it in the first place. But it helps if you’re replacing it instead of trying to just leave a gaping hole where the old baseline was.” 

Sophie giggled suddenly. “When Howl first told me I wasn’t a failure, he said that I just never stopped to think.” She glanced around the kitchen, chewing her lip to keep back a smile. “You know, I think I agree with him.” She finally laughed. 

Ben glanced around the kitchen, still littered with pumpkin chunks and raisin gobs. “If you say so,” he chuckled. “I, uh, was meaning to ask you what exactly it is you were trying to accomplish…” 

Sophie flushed bright red. For the first time since Ben came to the house, Calcifer raised his head with a grin. 

“She was trying to throw a surprise Halloween party for Howl.” Calcifer’s grin flickered purple over the tops of his logs. 

“Oh, be quiet, you,” Sophie grumbled. But her good humor was restored, and Calcifer crackled happily when he saw her lips twitch in spite of themselves. 

“A hallow- oh… oh.” Ben looked closer at the pile of uncarved pumpkins, the basket of still whole raisins, the small package of candles, the bag of apples, the large wooden tub, the recipe book still flipped open on the table to the page for soft caramel, the large bucket of harvest flowers in the corner, held back from being sold in the shop. 

Very slowly, Ben blinked, leaning back against the table. Then he blinked again. His lips twitched of their own accord. Chewing on his mustache, he nodded a few times. 

“Sophie,” he coughed, clearing his throat, “I hate to say it, but I feel I’m beginning to agree with Howl’s assessment of you. And you’re not much better, Calcifer.” He pursed his lips again, biting them to prevent smiling before he came to the punchline. 

Sophie and Calcifer glanced at each other, and back to Ben, whose shoulders had started to shake from repressed laughter. 

“Didn’t it occur to either of you that I’m from Wales too? That I would know all the Halloween traditions and would help you with them for the very small price of joining in the fun?” Ben’s lean face cracked into a grin, broken by the chuckles just barely bursting out of him. 

Calcifer had no such qualms. As Sophie paled in embarrassment, Calcifer exploded with laughter, falling over and rolling about his grate like a toddler, pounding his skinny flame arms on the stones. Ben couldn’t hold back anymore at the look on Sophie’s face and he doubled over with laughter, gasping to catch his breath. 

Sophie, despite her embarrassment, couldn’t help it either. She sniggered first, then chuckled, and in a moment or two and fallen against the table, almost shouting with laughter. They all laughed until they couldn’t laugh anymore, for fear of breaking ribs. As they caught their breaths, Ben pulled Sophie into a brotherly side-hug, still chuckling and shaking his head. 

“Da grasol fi,” Ben chuckled, “I’ll show you two idiots how to throw a Halloween party.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My poor baby Sophie. She's still dealing with the trauma of years of telling herself that she's a failure. *hugs* I hope I did well characterizing Ben. I love him so much, and he and Lettie deserve the world.  
Howl's love letter is very much based on the letters of Ronald Reagan to his wife Nancy, and if you have a chance to go read them, I would. Whatever your thoughts on his political stands, the man could write one heck of a love letter.  
According to Google Translate (such a reliable source, I know,) Da grasol fi means "Goodness gracious me." Please let me know if that's the case, if that isn't the case, if you know of a better interjection, or if I'm horribly wrong and should just stuff trying to put an interjection in there.  
I hope you enjoy this chapter! Shoutout to my lovely readers who have waited so long for this!  
(And shoutout to anyone who gets the Ladyhawke reference!)  
Love ya!  
~ Bea


	3. In Which a Happy Howl-loween is Had

The evening was fine, and the sunset was just beginning as the Wizards Pendragon and Sulliman were allowed to leave the royal presence on All Hallows Eve. Rose gold hues painted across the sky in shiny streaks against the clouds, and a cool breeze blew, scattering leaves down the street as it played in the gutters of Kingsbury. The fountain trickled and tinkled, mixing with the sounds of the city closing down and going home for the evening, and adding another layer of coolness to the air as the two Wizards passed it. 

“Brr,” Sulliman shuddered, pulling his coat closer around his neck. “You know, I don’t appreciate a fall wind that feels like winter has come early. I wish autumn weren’t so fleeting a season.” 

“Aye,” Howl agreed, “but the harvest festival and the midwinter carnival make up for it at least. And winter doesn’t last forever.” 

“That’s true enough,” said Ben with a smile. 

Howl didn’t see it, closing his eyes and walking silently with the wind blowing against his face. He’d grown to enjoy the walks home with Ben over the last few months. Between their shared birth land and the similar taste for Mad Hatters, they had grown quite close, and Howl never felt the need to slither out of the walk. Besides, it felt good to stretch his legs after being cooped up with the fear of the impending war, the worried king, and the far too clever prince. Howl truly regretted that his position in the court was an irrevocable one. 

But then, he could walk back with Ben. And there was Sophie to come home to. Sophie, who would greet him with a kiss, no matter her mood. Sophie, who would listen intently to what he had to say and give her, always rational, sometimes sarcastic, opinion on it. Sophie, who would tell him the funny stories of the customers who came in during the day and bought flowers. Or Sophie, crowing over a new bud that bloomed into something unique and gorgeous. Or Sophie, tired and cross and needing to be held and comforted. 

He wasn’t sure which Sophie he liked best. They all had their moments when they seemed the best girl in the world. To them all, a love letter to the inimitable Sophie in all her forms formed itself in his mind. He never enjoyed writing letters before. There was too much commitment, too much certainty in a penned letter. And a love letter was by far the most dangerous. And yet, for Sophie, they wrote themselves. 

_ To the dearest of all wives, _

_ Do you know, darling, I’m not sure which of you I’m writing to when I say that? There are so many of you, my inimitable girl, each more dear than the last. There was the little mouse I met on Mayday, whose sweetness and timidity drew me to protect her. Then there was terrifyingly nosy Old Sophie, who turned my life upside down and stayed with me through every new danger and trial I forced on her.  _

_ Even now, when I come home at night, there is always a new wife to greet me. There’s Mistress Jenkins, who sells the flowers for the city and who dances in excitement when she grows a new geranium from an asparagus sprout. Then some nights, I’ll find the Mad Hatter experimenting with a new bread recipe, an interesting shade of flour powdering her hair. And then again, some days, I get glimpses of dear sweet older sister Sophie, counseling Michael, or Martha, or Lettie through whatever fresh trouble has come their way.  _

_ But of all of you, my Dearest, there is one constant: the woman who holds my heart in her hands. My savior, my heroine, my life. Truly, you hold my heart, my love, my very life in your hands. Never leave, my darling. For without you, the world is colorless, broken, and bland.- _

“Are you coming in?” Ben’s voice broke in on Howl’s composition, and Howl looked up to see them outside of his house in Kingsbury. Lettie waved from an upstairs window, prettier than ever now that she too knew the fullness of love, and then disappeared from the window. 

“No, I don’t think so. I must get home. But thank you, Ben, as always.” Howl raised a hand in farewell, turning off down the street. 

The door opened, and Lettie flew out, landing precariously in her husband’s arms. Howl could hear them talking but didn’t hear the words, which perhaps was just as well. He made his way home, placing a speed spell once he was out of town and quickly closing the miles to where the Castle wandered sleepily over the hills. 

He never dreamed that anything could be wrong. He was too happy for it. 

It was only as he opened the door he realized something. 

He realized that nothing could ever prepare him for entering the castle to find it so void of life. 

He could feel nothing, see nothing. There weren’t even the familiar smells of the castle. Calcifer had left the grate, and not a cinder of him remained. Michael wasn’t bending over the workbench studiously, nor laying before the grate with an apple. And worst of all, there was no Sophie. 

There was no sweet, skinny figure waltzing in from the shop. No whirl of skirts tumbling down the stairs. Not even the sounds of a hastily covered up curse from the bathroom. 

The Castle was dark, and empty, and cold. 

“Sophie?” Howl called hesitantly. The sound echoed up the two floors and came back to him, hollow. 

“Sophie?!” an edge of panic crept into Howl’s voice as he dashed in, ignoring everything as he ran upstairs. There was no one upstairs. And no one in the shop when he ran in there, head in a panic.

“Sophie?! Michael?! Calcifer?!” No one answered him anywhere. But also, there was nothing to suggest that anything had happened to them. As hard as he looked, Howl couldn’t see any evidence of foul play. 

With a sigh of worry, Howl sunk on the couch before the fire. The cold, empty grate only reminded him of his position. His heart had lain there for years before Sophie claimed it. And now, though he could feel it in his chest, it felt as if it had once again left him. 

Unbidden, the words he penned in his mind only an hour ago came back to him. 

“ _ Truly, you hold my heart, my love, my very life in your hands. Never leave, my darling. For without you, the world is colorless, broken, and bland. _ ”

Perhaps she had left him. Aye, that would be his punishment. Thousands were the hearts he’d broken. And now the only girl he could ever truly love had come into his life and, perhaps, had left  _ him _ . He would deserve it if she had. 

But to take Calcifer and Michael too? Had they also left him? Or had they gone after her, begging her to stay? Where had she gone? To Fanny and Sacheverel, perhaps? Or to Ben and Lettie? Was that why Lettie had sounded so concerned? 

He shook his head with a sigh, standing. The world truly had seemed to go dark without Sophie. 

A soft sound came from behind him, a small fizzle, and Howl turned incredulously to see the workbench behind him, clean and neat, with a single candle lit on it and a note beside the base of the candle. 

How had he missed that? He knew the candle hadn’t been lit when he came in—the sight of a dark castle would haunt him for some time to come—but it didn’t seem likely he would miss it altogether. But then, he had been going on instinct. 

Vaguely the thought of foul play and skinny old vengeful witches popped into his mind, but he shook it out and went to the table. The Witch of the Waste and Miss Angorian were dead. And he hadn’t had the time to make any new enemies yet. 

The sight of Sophie’s scrawl on the paper brought him out of his thoughts, and he focused on the words. 

_ “Dear Howl--  _

_ A Happy Hallow’s Eve from me!  _

_ Come after me, and you shall see _

_ Tricks for Treats a-plenty there _

_ Where we first met in Market Square _

_ —Your Sophie _ ”

Howl frowned, not understanding. And yet… it seemed perfectly plain. Sophie… Sophie had arranged a surprise for him for Halloween. And this was the start of it—this little scrap of paper. The frown changed to a confused smile, and with barely another thought, he moved through to the shop and left through that door, bell jingling merrily behind him. 

“The fool girl, she nearly gave me a heart attack. Oh well, hey ho. Let’s see what she’s done, the dear.” And with that thought, Howl made his way the two blocks to Market Square, stopping outside Cesari’s. 

He looked around cautiously but couldn’t see anything spectacular. Or unspectacular. It was just Market Square, as it usually looked. The only thing that marked this as odd was the bunches of autumn flowers decorating the light posts and shop signs. He recognized the flowers. Sophie must have made quite a packet from selling them, and perhaps even helping to arrange them. 

But even though he looked among the flowers, he couldn’t see any new clue from his elusive girl. Just as he was about to give up, a familiar figure—though not the one he was looking for—stepped out of Cesari’s shop, a bundle under her arm. 

“Martha?” Howl asked, head involuntarily cocked in confusion. 

“Oh! Howl!” Martha seemed flushed and excited. “What are you doing-”

Howl held out the note to her, watching as she bit her lip and looked over the note. It was unfortunate that she held that parcel under her arm, or he might get something from the state of her thumbs, as Michael had reliably informed him of Martha’s habit. 

“Ooh, you’re early!” Martha said instead, her eyes shining. “Go on inside. Mrs. Cesari has your next clue. Just don’t be in a rush.” She smiled at him and turned to go, but he stopped her. 

“And where are you off to, sister dear?” 

“None of your business, brother mine. But I’m delivering a cake for Mrs. Cesari if you must know.” She shot him another grin and dashed off, leaving him confused on the steps. 

With a shake of his head, he turned and entered the shop, instantly greeted by the warm light and the buttery smell of baked goods. In half a second, Mrs. Cesari stood beside him. 

“Why if it isn’t Mr. Jenkins! I’d have known you anywhere, sir. Your dear wife talks that much about you. She’s so good with her flowers, sir, isn’t she? You will stay for a cup of something and a small cake, won’t you? Your dear wife left a note for you with me only today. Said I’d be seeing you tonight and to give it to you then. Let me just go get it, sir, one moment!” 

Howl sat at one of the tiny tables, remembering Martha’s admonition to not be in a rush. It seemed he was early, and he allowed Mrs. Cesari to bring him a cup of warm apple cider with a small pumpkin cream cake and talk to him while he ate. He wasn’t concerned anymore, just confused and slightly amused, and he lent himself fully to the experience. 

So he sat and ate and smiled charmingly at Mrs. Cesari as she talked about Sophie and Martha and Michael. It had confused her when the change in ‘Letties’ was explained to her. She was much of a mind with Mrs. Fairfax. She also would much prefer a girl willing to be there in her shop, rather than one pining for far away. So she was quite pleased with the change. It amused Howl no end to discover that Mrs. Cesari hadn’t the faintest idea of their actual professions. In fact, he was sure that she didn’t see him as anything except ‘Dear Mrs. Jenkins’ husband, you know, from the flower shop.’ But she talked glowingly of Sophie, Martha, and Michael, who was ‘a good boy.’ 

When Howl’s cake was eaten, and Mrs. Cesari was called away, he turned to the second note. 

“ _ Dear Howl-- _

_ Never will I ever be _

_ Able to think what you did for me _

_ Without thinking of trims of black and gold _

_ Down where the valleys end their fold.  _

_ —Your Sophie _

_ P.S. No shortcuts. _ ”

Howl stifled his laugh. One fine-boned hand pressed over his mouth as he thought of the day Sophie learned he knew of her self-imposed spell. He’d known it was a stupid idea to freshen up the mansion, had known she would know he’d been listening to her. But maybe that was the point. Maybe he’d been hoping to force her into a confrontation on her spell. Maybe he’d wanted to impress her with his power. But against her, with all his skill and prowess, he was powerless. 

He left swiftly, figuring to find his next clue about the fine mansion the castle opened on. 

“No shortcuts, hmm? Well, Sophie dearest, what do you have planned now? Arranging something, are we?” With a grin, he hurried out of Market Chipping, picking up a slight wind behind him to carry him down the valley. Sophie hadn’t said he couldn’t use magic, just any shortcuts, which he assumed to mean the castle. 

He decreased the wind as he reached the end of the folding valley but missed the entrance to their own dear castle and almost collapsed outside the Smith’s house gate. It surprised him to see Fanny outside, Mr. Smith on her arm, and just about to get into a carriage. 

“Good gracious, Howl!” Fanny scurried down from the carriage and came over, helping Howl to stand. “What are you doing here?” 

Howl glanced at the two of them and grinned. “Sophie is sending me on a bit of a wild goose chase and sent me to the outside of our own castle down here in the folding valley. I seem to have missed my mark, though.” 

The Smith’s shared a glance and smiled slightly. 

“A wild goose chase? Sounds… exciting!” Sacheverel commented. He was not a man of very marked character, but he was pleasant and very devoted to Fanny. Fanny seemed equally happy and had the time of her life running a grand mansion for her husband. 

They exchanged pleasantries and promises, and they Howl turned to leave them, allowing them to disappear into the carriage and drive up the road. With little thought other than excitement, Howl turned back down the road and whistled as he walked, an old tune he remembered singing as a child on All Hallows Eve. 

Howl may not have had much to do with any instrument, but he had quite a pleasant voice when he wasn’t drunk, and it wasn’t long until he sang instead of whistled. 

“ **Soul Day, Soul Day, we be come a' souling.**

**Pray, good people, remember the poor,**

**And give us a soul cake. **

**Soul, soul, a soul cake!**

**Please, good lady, a soul cake!**

**An apple, a pear, a plum or a cherry,**

**Any good thing to make us merry.**

**Soul, soul, a soul cake!**

**Pray we for a soul cake!**

**One for Peter, two for Paul,**

**And three for Him who made us all.** ”

As he reached the end of the verse, he came in sight of the gate of their mansion and almost gasped. On the top of each post was a meticulously carved pumpkin, spewing light through flickering eyes onto the road. Turning in at the gate, Howl saw candles lining both sides of the walk to the door. Streamers of harvest roses, linked with grapevines, joined with bunches of fruit hung from the trees. The golden leaves scattered the ground, drifted artistically between the candles and bunches of wheat, sunflowers, pumpkins, and turnips. It was a harvest fairyland.

“ **God bless the master of this house, the mistress also,**

**And all the little children who 'round your table grow.**

**Likewise, your men and maidens, your cattle and your store,**

**And all that dwell within your gates, we wish you ten times more.** ”

Howl spun on his heels as he walked up the drive, trying to take it all in. Two more pumpkins leered at him from either side of the steps, and Howl grinned back at them as the carved eyes seemed to follow him as he glided up the steps. Sophie had tucked one more note into the doorjamb, and Howl pulled it out to read, wary of opening the door until he knew he was welcome. 

“ _ Dear Howl-- _

_ Tis’ time for shivers, scares, and thrills, _

_ For pumpkin grins in windowsills, _

_ For black cats in the full moons’ glow _

_ And a Happy Halloween Hello! _

_ So enter good man, if you dare,  _

_ And welcome to the Wizard’s Lair, _

_ —Your Sophie _ ”

Howl eagerly grabbed the door handle, turning it and stepping in, the chorus of the song on his lips. 

“ **Soul, soul, a soul cake!**

**Please, good lady, a soul cake!**

**An apple, a pear, a plum or a cherry,**

**Any good thing to make us merry.**

**Soul, soul, a soul cake!**

**Pray we for a soul cake!**

**One for Peter, two for Paul,**

**And three for Him who made us all.** ” 

The inside of the castle was as transformed as the outside. No longer the dark, cold room of earlier, Calcifer flickered inside yet another carved pumpkin, his purple grin flickering over the ragged edge. Candles sat on nearly every available surface, little ones, and large ones together until the place blazed with light. Vines and fruits adorned the banisters across the ceiling to match the trees outside, and a small feast rested on the workbench, including a luscious cake from Cesari’s. As a last touch, across one chair was a fantastic new suit in purples and silver embroidery and a matching silver inlay on a fresh pair of supple black boots. 

But the biggest transformation was Sophie herself. She stood in the middle of the room, wrapped in a long green gown with silver trimmings. She’d let her hair hang half up-half down, in one of Howl’s particularly favored styles, and the candlelight glinted on the loops and waves of reddish straw-colored curls. There was a fitted mask in her hand, black and decorated with peacock feathers to match her gown's green shade. Her slim little feet were also encased in boots, although if Howl had to guess, they were her own sensible ones since they didn’t do more than peek out below the hem of her skirt. 

She looked like a sorceress, and he told her so. 

“I should hope so. What do you think? Am I a fitting companion for you tonight, Wizard Pendragon?” She gave a half turn to show off her handiwork, blushing slightly in the warm light. 

“More than Madame Sorceress.” He stepped forward and caught her in his arms, pulling her in for a grateful kiss. 

And he was grateful. As much as he’d pushed the thought away, he was truly hurt to have his favorite holiday pass without notice, and Sophie had not only remembered but had gone out of her way to make the day special for them. 

“I love you,” he whispered to her. He rarely said it. It was assumed and didn’t need saying. But his heart was full, and the words dropped like a kiss on her ear, like a caress to her very soul. 

She held him for a moment, squeezing him tightly before pulling back to settle her hands lovingly on his face. “Come on, Wizard Pendragon. Get dressed. The others are waiting, and we can’t start without you.” 

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, the first of many that evening, and disappeared upstairs with a laugh and the laid out suit. He was meticulous in his dressing, as befitted Sophie's skill with her needle. Although he couldn't spare the time to touch up any of his facial spells (he  _ had _ been getting lax with them recently,) he spared the time to bend into Sophie’s mirror and fix his hair to sit appealingly under the matching cap to the suit. There was even a beaded purple mask, and Howl was wonderfully impressed that Sophie had not only done all of this for him but had kept it a surprise. 

He was in for another surprise as he heard voices coming from downstairs as he finished. Sophie had said the others were waiting, but he had assumed she meant Michael and Calcifer, and perhaps Martha. But as he reached the turn in the stairs, the last of the revelers arrived at the castle door. Howl reached the ground floor just in time to see Sophie open the door to Fanny and Mr. Smith, and Mrs. Fairfax peeked over their shoulders with a knowing smile. A cry of gladness came from two girlish voices, and Howl turned to see Lettie and Martha tumbling in from the shop, followed closely by Ben and Michael. 

The girls joined their sister in the embraces at the door while the men looked to Howl, one sheepish, one brimming with welsh mischief. 

"So you were in on this all, were you?" Howl asked with a grin and one carefully sculpted eyebrow raised. 

Michael smiled and babbled. “Were you surprised, Howl? Sophie came up with it all herself, and Calcifer and I tried to help, but then Wizard Suliman came to help, and everything was alright. We have oodles of pumpkin innards left. I think we’ll be eating pies for weeks.” 

“We’ll help you with them,” Ben promised, clapping Michael on the back. He turned to Howl then, eager to explain the plans. “You have no idea how much you threw off the schedule when you wouldn’t come in at home. We meant to have the castle decorated by the time you arrived.” 

“That explains a lot,” Howl grinned, “I nearly had a heart attack when I came home to a cold castle.” 

Michael looked vaguely guilty but couldn’t say anything as Sophie came up to hand Howl a glass of wine and draw him and Ben into the center of the room, chattering as she did so to Mrs. Fairfax, who seemed to have a basket of honey cakes and honey candies over her arm. 

Sophie clapped a few times when they reached the center and pushed Ben forward with a grin. 

After sheepishly clearing his throat, Ben gave a small toast to the family and then explained the options. After a bit of discussion, the three magic couples, plus Calcifer, who refused to be excluded, would travel to Wales to take part in an adapted version of trick-or-treating. Instead of gathering treats for themselves, they would walk around town to view the scenery and costumes and hand out honey cakes and honey candies to those who would take them. 

Howl was skeptical they would accept the gifts, but Sophie squeezed his arm. 

“Ben thought of that. That’s where the handsewn costumes come in. I’ve told our clothes to make us seem mysterious but friendly and harmless. It’s sewn right into the seams.” 

“Clever girl,” Howl whispered to her, squeezing her back. 

The Smiths and Mrs. Fairfax decided not to come to Wales but would enjoy themselves there at the Castle in conversation until the others got back. And if the others were late, they had instructions on lighting the bonfire in the flower fields. 

It took a moment to get organized. Those heading out immediately had to find their cloaks and ensure they securely tied their masks to leave their arms free. The women each took a basket over their arm, as Lettie, Martha, and Mrs. Fairfax had all made and brought a basket of charmed honey treats. There was some confusion about who would carry Calcifer’s pumpkin, as he was going disguised as a jack-o'-lantern to avoid suspicion. Eventually, they decided Howl should carry Calcifer on his voyage of exploration. 

Finally, they all stepped through the portal into Howl and Ben’s strange homeworld. 

* * *

They made a strange sight in the streets, to be sure, but not so out of the ordinary on that last night of October that anyone commented more than to say, “What odd people!” But it soon became apparent that these were foreigners, being led by two native tour guides. They made merry as they went, the two eldest men singing old folk songs as they went and the others joining haphazardly on the chorus. 

The youngest girl seemed enthralled with all she saw, tugging the young man on her arm and pointing to things as they went. Her deep blue eyes shone from behind the velvet mask, and her sweet smile beamed at everyone she saw. The young man also seemed pleased but somewhat confused, turning to one guide often with questions. The dark-haired young woman seemed equally wrapped up in her companion as in her surroundings, asking him questions and pointing with delicately gloved hands at things she found amusing or curious. Her guide was tall and gangly but dashing in his old-fashioned suit and cape hanging off one shoulder. The other end of the cape came out to wrap around his woman when she complained of the cold, and it was clear to all how in love they were. 

But without doubt, the most curious pair was the last of the three. They walked together, the carved pumpkin hanging between them, and waffled between bickering and giggling as easy as you please. There was a spring in the slim woman’s step, and she seemed immensely pleased with herself. The man seemed to shine with the amount of silver glinting in his suit, and whenever his girl wasn’t watching him, he was watching her, near adoration in his eyes. 

The masks obscured their faces, of course, but one older man shook his head as the group left his porch, leaving him a honey cake for his family. 

“I’d almost o’ sworn that one boy was Howell Jenkins,” he said to his wife later. 

“Well, and there’s no denying the boys’ run about with an odd crowd,” his wife agreed, “but I thought he’d straightened out now. Heard from Megan, he got married.”

“Maybe that was his wife with the strawberry hair then. They did seem rather smitten.” 

“Oh, I wish I could have seen her.” The wife looked sadly at her bed and surroundings. 

“Never mind love. Have some of the cake they brought. It looks that delicious.” 

His wife smiled. She felt better, even looking at that lovely honey cake. 

* * *

When the baskets were nearly empty, the revelers headed home, exultant from their rich profit in giving. They tumbled, laughing, through the portal, and arrived breathless in the castle to tell of their adventures. The Smiths and Mrs. Fairfax greeted them happily, eager to hear what they’d experienced and what they’d seen. 

They ate as they talked, chattering happily over cold meats and warm drinks. Martha told of the little girl she was sure had seen Calcifer. Michael talked of the house decorations and many colored lights, asking if they could have some for the Castle next Halloween. Ben and Lettie talked to Mrs. Fairfax about how the children and families accepted her recipes. And Howl, Sophie, and the Smiths discussed the costumes they saw and how well the lovely clothes Sophie made looked in the candlelight. 

Sophie glowed with pleasure. The evening was progressing even better than she had expected it to. There, with her family surrounding her, her heart was full. Nothing was wanting to add to her contentment. Calcifer bobbed up beside her. 

“You know, Sophie, I think we did it.” He crackled. 

“It’s not over yet, old friend,” she reminded him. “But I’d say so. What have you enjoyed the most?” 

“Wales. All of it,” he said decidedly, “The air was salty, which made up for the wet.”

“Good.” Sophie nodded decidedly. “I’m glad I thought of carrying you in a pumpkin, then.”

“Yes,” whined Calcifer, “But I’ll be smelling of pumpkin pie for a week, I hope you know.”

Sophie laughed. 

After eating, they all went out of the purple door to where Calcifer had placed the castle near the garden's edge in the waste. An enormous bonfire was waiting for them, and Calcifer gleefully dove into it and set it ablaze. Ben brought his guitar with him from the Castle and struck up a jaunty tune. No one else knew it, so Ben sang the song until the others picked up on the chorus and sang that with him. Martha and Michael got up to dance, followed soon after by the Smiths. Sophie stayed firmly by Ben and Lettie at first, and Howl beamed charmingly at Mrs. Fairfax and pulled her into the group soon after. 

**Come and gather around / And join in the crowd, / Singing the songs that we know**

**We'll drink a toast to tomorrow and one to days long ago...**

**We'll drink a toast to tomorrow and one to days long ago...**

**We will dance through the night / In the candlelight, / Warmed by the fires glow**

**We'll drink a toast to tomorrow and one to days long ago...**

**We'll drink a toast to tomorrow and one to days long ago...**

**And we'll follow the stars / No matter how far, / Wherever the wind may blow**

**We'll drink a toast to tomorrow and one to days long ago...**

**We'll drink a toast to tomorrow and one to days long ago...**

**When the sun starts to rise / We'll not hide our eyes, / We'll greet her with a kiss hello...**

**We'll drink a toast to tomorrow and one to days long ago...**

**We'll drink a toast to tomorrow and one to days long ago...**

**All the memories we share / Greet us everywhere, / Along life's twisting road**

**We'll drink a toast to tomorrow and one to days long ago...**

**We'll drink a toast to tomorrow and one to days long ago...**

**Come and gather around / And join in the crowd, / Singing the songs that we know**

**We'll drink a toast to tomorrow and one to days long ago...**

**We'll drink a toast to tomorrow and one to days long ago...**

**And one to days long ago… / And one to days long ago... **

They danced until they couldn’t, switching partners often as the song or verse changed, or even just dancing in one large circle around the fire. Howl pulled even the most reluctant to dance, refusing to be slighted, and threw himself into the spirit of the night. 

Slowly though, legs grew tired, and eyes drooped despite heavily beating hearts. As another song ended, Ben laid aside his guitar and pulled out his pocket-watch. 

“It’s almost midnight, and All Hallows is almost here.” He said in his quiet and carrying voice. 

“Goodness gracious, is it that late already?” Fanny asked through a yawn. 

“I’m afraid so. And with All Hallow’s Eve ending, so does our time here. But before we go, I’d like to welcome this holy day with a toast.” Ben nodded to Lettie, who seemed aware of his plan, and she stood and ran back the few steps to the castle, reappearing in a moment with a basket and producing glasses and a bottle of wine. 

Ben helped her pass them around and then spoke. 

“We’ve all come together tonight for one reason. We came because we’re family. We came because we’re friends. But on this feast day, it is customary to remember those who have died before us. So, ladies and gentlemen, let us each raise our glasses to our beloved dead. May they never be forgotten.” He stood and raised his glass. “To my own family, my parents, and siblings.”

Lettie and Sophie caught each other's eye. “To our mother.” They raised their glasses. 

“To my late husband,” Fanny and Martha raised theirs. 

“To my parents,” murmured Michael. 

“To my dear, late wife,” chimed in Sacheverel. 

“To my poor dear Mr. Fairfax,” sighed Mrs. Fairfax. 

Howl paused before raising his. His gaze grew glossy under the effect of tears, but he smiled. 

“To the lady, I perhaps owe the most to. To the woman who made me the man I am today and gave her life to protect me. Mrs. Pentstemmon.” 

“Mrs. Pentstemmon,” echoed Ben and Mrs. Fairfax, followed a second later by Sophie and Michael, remembering the grand old lady. 

“To our beloved dead. May their souls, and all the souls of the faithful departed, rest in peace,” Howl added. 

“To our beloved dead,” echoed the group, even Calcifer, oddly enough. They drank down the toast and then stood and slowly drifted back to the castle, saying their farewells on the way. Martha went home with her mother and stepfather and warned she would come back through the castle in the morning to be at work on time. Lettie and Ben said their goodbyes too, kissing Howl and Sophie on the cheek and using a transport spell. They asked Mrs. Fairfax to come with them, but she kindly refused, saying she must get back to be there for her bees in the morning. She used a transport spell, too, leaving through the mansion door before using it, waving a plump and motherly hand to the four figures left in the doorway. 

Michael yawned, and Calcifer grumbled, each turning to their own beds with little to say. Howl and Sophie slowly followed Michael to the stairs, Sophie’s head on Howl’s shoulder, Howl’s arm around her waist. As they reached the base of the stairs, Howl turned Sophie to meet his face again. 

She blinked up at him sleepily, and he smiled, brushing tendrils of hair from her face. 

“Thank you, my dearest girl,” he whispered, kissing her softly on the corner of her mouth as she melted into him. 

Her arm came up to wrap around his neck, and she pulled him down for a proper kiss. 

“You’re welcome,” she breathed. The smile on her face faded slightly with her contemplative frown. Howl raised a hand and smoothed the wrinkles from her brow. She smiled again. “I liked what you said at the toast.”

“Hmm?” Howl hummed, memorizing every curve of her skinny, sharp little face. 

“That last phrase. Rest in peace. It sounds so calm. Serene. I like it. It sounds like a blessing,” She also seemed to memorize him, her chilled fingers sliding smoothly over his cheek, down his nose, over his lips. 

“It is, in a way. It’s part of a prayer. It seemed appropriate.” Howl murmured against her finger, pressing a kiss to the tip. 

She smiled and tapped his nose, then turned and glided up the stairs. Howl followed her, each helping the other in any way they could to get ready for bed and sliding under the covers together. Howl held his Sophie close to his heart, and she casually flattened her hand out over it, feeling its steady rhythm, as if she knew her possession of it. 

“Good night, Howl,” she whispered, curling tighter to him against the chill. “Rest in peace.”

_ With you in my arms? _ Howl thought,  _ With my family around me instead of far away as I thought? How could I not rest in peace? _

But he didn’t say it. He rarely said what he thought. He rolled on his side and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Goodnight, my Sophie. Happy Halloween. And rest in peace.” 

Sophie smiled in her sleep, and Howl was happy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys, I'm crying. After a year, it's finally done! I can't thank all my readers enough for reading this story so often, and so well!! You are all beautiful wonderful people, and I love you all! To those who read this when it first came out, to those who came back, and to those who will read it for the first time this year: Thank you. I cannot say it enough, thank you, thank you, thank you. *HUGS*   
~  
Now, for the actual notes on the story: There's not a ton of information I can add, except for information on the songs. The first song is "Souling Song - All Hallow's Version" by Kristen Lawrence, and it is actually based on a song sung by children on All Souls Day (actually November 2nd) in the middle ages, and that's the basis of the tradition of trick or treating. There's a little more information in the song description: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m_LjZVCfoeI&ab&ab   
[There's a Samhain version of the song that I *imagine* you could switch out the lyrics with if you'd like, but I haven't tested it.]  
The second song is one done by Blackmore's Night: Toast to Tomorrow. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_YvmFPvuO50   
Gosh, there is no way to express how much I love this song, and a lot of the bands' other songs are amazing too. There's just something slightly wild and Pan-ish about this song, but in a healthier way I guess? I don't know, it's Trickstercore and I love it.   
-  
That's all I guess, except that I hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you all so much for being so patient with me, for giving this fic the most reads of any of my works ever, and for just generally being amazing people. I really really hope the ending was worth the wait. XD   
*Hugs Again* Thank you all for being amazing, and tough as nails! I love you all!   
Feel free to tell me what you thought in the comments, or drop me a line over at There-was-a-star-danced-ao3.tumblr!   
Until next time! Addio~ Bea


	4. Fan Art Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which Fans of The Book Send in Fan Art and the Author of this FanFiction Credits Their Amazing Work.   
~  
Hello all! I've had a few commenters mention they would be interested in making fanart for my little Halloween story, and of course, like the proud mother-duck I am, I will accept any and all offerings to my child and gratefully thank those who bring them.   
Any kind of fan art is acceptable, and the official method of submission to me is on my tumblr "there-was-a-star-danced-ao3.tumblr" under the tab "Please Leave A Contribution in the Little Box!" but if you don't have a tumblr I also have anonymous asks turned on under "Queue and Eyy". Feel free to contact me and we'll work something out. :)   
Have fun and go wild! I can't wait to see what happens!   
With love, ~Bea

"It’s Halloween and they’re in love!!!" by tinuviel_tinuviel on AO3 or thatfoolsophie.tumblr

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